


5 Times Peter Parker Falls Asleep

by lizzybizzyzzz, sentient_bees



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Insomnia, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Movie Night, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Sibling Bonding, Sleepy Cuddles, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybizzyzzz/pseuds/lizzybizzyzzz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_bees/pseuds/sentient_bees
Summary: ... and one time he couldn't.





	5 Times Peter Parker Falls Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! :) 
> 
> Song link- https://youtu.be/zxNCEz-J3Pg

_ 1\. _

It was a lab day- a.k.a. both Peter and Tony’s favorite week day. He’d get home from boring and headache-inducing meetings, loosen his tie and smile. He’d change into his sweats and order some food and _wait_.

When Peter did come, he looked dead on his feet. Messy curls and a big, oversized sweatshirt that sported some decent holes. It triggered every damn parental sense especially because the kid won’t meet his eyes and his cheeks are flushed pink. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony says lightly, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder to balance him. “We feelin’ okay?” 

Peter lets out a small sigh and presses his cheek into the man’s hand as it travels up to his hair. “Yeah, e’erything’s fine, Mister Stark.” 

Tony squinted at him but didn’t want to prod. That was something for parents and he didn’t want his mind going around in circles about the boundaries of their mentorship. Peter wouldn’t want him as a father or even a role model, he has too many choices for _ him _ to come out on top. 

They eventually make it to the lab, after Tony stuffs Peter with food because he’s a teenager and _ when do teenagers ever have a routine meal plan. _He tinkers around, mostly watching the kid across the room slap himself in attempt to stay awake. It’s amusing to watch Peter nearly fall asleep on his hand and then slouch uncomfortably until he jolts at the crick in his neck. He’d laugh if it wasn’t also painful to watch.

Tony makes a plan. Totally unnecessary, if he just said _ ‘lets take 5’ _the skip would probably skip out with glee. But, he’s bored and heavyhearted that Peter feels the need to do that to himself just to impress Tony. 

He walks over quietly, standing slightly behind Peter. “What’re you reading, Spider- kid?” 

Peter groans and rubus his eyes. “It’s Spider- Man.” He whines pitifully, Tony chuckles. “Studying for AP Chem.” 

Tony rubs a hand up and down the kid’s back, satisfied as he melts under the touch. “Oh yeah? What about?” 

“The ionic radii of compounded elements.” He mumbles, sinking lower into the table. Tony takes this as a chance to glide his hand up to the tight curls at the base of his neck. “S’ pretty boring.” 

“Looks pretty elementary for you.” Tony notes, skimming the page. The kid could’ve done this in kindergarten with a crayon better than some high school kids. 

Tony keeps himself busy (while keeping an eye on the drowsy teenager) by reviewing the Iron Spider suit, making notes for more updates and whatnot. He also makes sure to tell the kid’s aunt he’s needed overnight for the internship and gets her permission. It’s only when he hears soft snoring and shuffled movements does he make his move. 

He pushes away the parental surge of warmth that accompanies seeing Peter, his head against the book with drool pooling under the pages. He moves quietly and softly, sure not to wake the kid. 

As Tony is moving the textbook, Peter lets out a small whine of protest, his eyes flutter open obscurely. He looks disgusted as he wipes the spit from his cheek and blushes when he realizes Tony is right next to him. Despite his awakening, Tony tucks the blanket around the kid’s shoulders and rubs his upper arms to ease his nerves. 

Tony shushes him softly and nudges him towards the couch in the corner. He doesn’t mention that the addition was made before the kid first started coming to the lab, for this purpose exactly. It was a soft cream color with plush throw blankets that he knew Peter would like. He’d mentioned that softness helped with his overstimulation issues. 

He sighs as Peter collapses, face first into the cushions, letting out a happy breath as Tony settles him under the blanket. He runs a hand down the kid’s spine and smiles when he arches like a cat. 

“Thanks, Mis’er Stark.” 

“You’re welcome kid.”

  
_2._  
  


Peter watched the snow fall in fat flakes onto the porch, illuminated by the fluorescent porch light. It was beginning to pile, over the last few hours, and it whipped around wildly. The windows would shake, sometimes, and the wind could be heard howling, banging on the door and echoing through the kitchen.

The Stark Family, however, could not be bothered. The news had been calling for this storm for about a week now, so May and Peter decided to pack their things and wait it out in the cabin. Tony pulled out his homemade generator and Pepper and Rhodey stockpiled food and called it a family vacation.

Happy, May and Pepper sat in the kitchen, talking in hushed voices and sipping on expensive wine. The remnants of their dinner plates were stocked away in the dishwasher, the leftovers stacked neatly in the fridge. Rhodey, exhausted after a mission, had retired early. Tony had fallen asleep in his favorite chair, and Peter could almost laugh at how much of an old man he was becoming. His soft snores were the only thing Peter could hear over the cackling of the fire that illuminated the man's sleeping form, his metal arm glinting against the light.

"Petey?"

Peter turned to see Morgan dressed in her Elsa pajamas, holding her favorite stuffed Spider-Man toy (that Tony pretended to hate) close.

"What's up, kiddo?" He asked, cocking his head slightly at her in question.

"I can't sleep," she whispered into the stuffie, "Can I stay with you?" She glanced in uncertainty at the oblivious adults in the kitchen, as if she'd get in trouble for being up. Peter noticed this and rose from his seat on the couch to guide her over. 

"Of course," he replied, his tone light and soft.

Once they're both settled, he grabbed a large blanket from the back of the couch and throws it over both of them, leaving the two wrapped up and tucked into the arm of the couch. Peter looks down at her, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Can we?" She asks, looking up at her brother. He almost melts at her gaze. 

"How about your favorite? The princess one?" 

Morgan gasps, immediately lighting up, "Yeah!"

Peter chuckles, "FRIDAY, play _ The Princess Bride, _ please."

"Of course." Immediately the TV begins telling the tale of Princess Buttercup and her brave love, Wesley, as Peter combs his fingers through Morgan's hair. The wind pounds at the doors, the trees rustling and groaning in protest as they bend against the wind and bear the weight of the snow. Despite it, the light of the fire and the lull of dreams soon pull Morgan into its waiting arms. 

Soon, with his younger sister heavy in his arms, Peter begins to drift off. The clinking of glasses and the hushed conversation from the kitchen become background noise, he barely registers the soft dialogue from the movie as he drifts off to sleep.

\------ 

Tony wakes up to piercing light in his eyes. Sun rays filter through the trees and pour into the living room through the window. He sits up, rubbing the back of his aching neck. _ Shouldn't have fallen asleep in a chair like that. _

He stands up, tossing the blanket off of himself and squinting at the glass door, watching the trees bristle. There's at least three feet of snow on the ground-- that's what you get when you live in upstate New York, New England-- but when he looks around to the couch, his heart melts.

Peter and Morgan are both fast asleep on the couch, the boy with his arms wrapped around her as they sleep on. Morgan is curled up with her favorite Spider-Man stuffed toy-- he's _ got _ to get her an Iron Man-- and is completely out. 

He smiled softy at the scene. _ Oh, what a life to be blessed with, _ Tony thought. He leaned down to give a quick kiss to the foreheads of both children, and shuffled to the kitchen to pour himself a liberal amount of coffee in his _ World's Best Dad _mug, of course (gifted to him by both Morgan and Peter last Father's Day, their first year all together after Thanos. Tears were shed and hugs exchanged).

\------

Later that day, as Peter pulled the sled up the hill for Morgan for the upteenth time, Tony watched from the window, tucked under a blanket with his wife. May and Happy sat warming their hands on their mugs next to the fire, and Rhodey read a book on the recliner. 

"Pep?" 

"Hm?" 

He took a sip of his coffee, watching the kids' sled tip and fall into the snow, sending them down laughing.

"Is this real?"

Pepper smiled softly and took his hand in hers. "Yes, Tony. This is real."

  
_3._  


Tony’s eyes wander around the remains. No matter how bone-deep exhusted he is, an adrenaline crash will never prevent him from finding the reckless teenage boy he let loose on a battlefield. 

Tony’s heart skips a beat when he does find Peter; sprawled on the ground and breathing so heavy that if he focused Tony could hear it from where he was standing. He made his way over, loud enough to not startle the teenager’s own hurtle from the stress.

Peter’s eyes flutter open when Tony stands over him. The lazy smile he gives makes the older man sigh in relief. “Hey, Mister Stark.” He breathes. 

“C’mon, kid. We’re getting outta here.” 

After hauling Peter up (_ “Get up yourself, I’ve got a bad back” _) and inspecting him for injuries, they head to where Rhodey is waiting for them. 

The remains of a team that once was piled into the jet, no one really speaking besides the sporadic banter. It was one of the longest battles they’ve been through together- stretching on every daylight hour. A big mercy was that the jet could fly a majority of the way in cruise control before Tony would have to take the reins. 

Tony settled in where Peter was snoring softly, slumped over on himself like he just couldn’t wait to fall asleep with a neck cramp. Gingerly and without waking him, Tony readjusted him so Peter’s forehead pressed against his neck, arms slipping around his warm body. He let himself relax into the pseudo-cuddling and leaned his own head back. 

It’s not long before he’s jolting awake, head smacking against the back panel. For a second, he couldn’t remember where they were and why Peter looks like a puppet with cut strings. Tony runs a hand along the bump that’ll probably form before they get home.

Above them, Rhodey snickers. Tony sticks his tongue out at his friend and rubs an absent-minded hand along Peter’s spine. With the other he presses against the pulse point under his jaw. He listens intently to the small_ puffs _ of Peter’s breath against his collarbone and closes his eyes again. 

Peter is safe and sound, and that’s all Tony needs to know before letting himself drift off with his charge.

_4._

"Come on, kid," Tony hushed in earnest, "You gotta stay with me. Look at me. Focus on my voice." Peter was currently curled into Tony, the boy staring back at the man with eyes wide with fear. His middle was bleeding profusely after he was crushed by debris and pipes that impaled him in his lower abdomen. 

Tony did his best to staunch the bleeding, using nanotechnology to seal all of the wounds he could see, but blood was pouring so much that he couldn't quite pinpoint what all of his injuries were. 

They were on some dingy street corner in the centre of Hell's Kitchen. DareDevil was nowhere to be seen, but another vigilante decided to wander the streets on his colleague's day off. That vigilante being one Peter Parker, of course. 

Tony had since summoned medical, deeming Peter's injuries too severe to move him on his own, and they were only minutes away. "Tony?" Peter's voice was short and breathy-- he was panicking. When the building had gone down, he had promptly frozen up and let himself be brought down with the crumbling remains. Tony figured it was PTSD from his visit with the Vulture. 

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," Tony was surprised at how calm his own voice was, when in his mind he was terrified, "I'm not going anywhere, kiddo." 

"Promise?" Peter's eyes began to droop.

"Hey, if I promise to stay, you can stay awake for me, yeah?" Tony cradled Peter's head with one hand and felt blood seeping through his fingers on the other. 

"I dunno. . ." Peter began to drift off, his eyes going glassy. Tony shook him, probably a little too harshly, his heart beating faster than ever. He was not going to let his boy die in his arms. 

Not again. 

Peter looked up at his psuedo-father, his face paler than ever, "I don' feel good. . .m'sorry. . ." and with that, the boy promptly passed out.

"Peter! FRIDAY, scan for pulse."

There was a pause before the AI spoke, "Heartbeat detectable. Peter has a severe concussion and internal bleeding in the lower abdomen. Without immediate medical attention there is a serious risk of infection." 

As if on cue, the ambulance pulls up in front of the alleyway, the SHIELD EMTs pulling him away from Peter and loading him onto a gurney. He can only watch helplessly as the boy's head lolls uselessly to the side. 

It seemed like an eternity passed before they were finally rushing to the tower in an ambulance ablaze with red and blue lights. Tony sat off to the side as they did their work, yearning to be near Peter but wary enough to let the EMTs do their job. 

The drive was short, yet stressful. The boy's sheets had almost soaked with blood as he was rushed through the halls, Tony running alongside the gurney before he was pushed through the doors of the surgical wing. 

From there, it was a waiting game. He paced anxiously, and though he was never the religious type, whispered a prayer for his child under his breath.

\------

Peter woke up with a groan. His eyes were heavy and he struggled to open them. He was greeted with far too much light, willing his arm to move so he could cover his eyes. His head pounded, a dull ache consuming his body that centered around a point in his midriff. He grabbed blindly for his side, only to find his hand being taken in another's.

"Hey, kiddo," Tony said in a hushed tone, "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Peter shook his head in refusal. Or at least, he tried. The movement was weak and he could feel his heart beating with each pulse of throbbing behind his eyes. He swallowed, his mouth dry. Something was making his nose itch-- as he became more aware, he realized it was a nasal cannula. _ He was in the hospital. _

A wave of pain shot through him as he tried to shift his weight. 

"Easy there, Pete," came Tony's voice, comforting and steady. The man placed his hand on Peter's forehead and ran his fingers through his-- probably very greasy-- hair.

"Let's get your eyes open, yeah? Let's start with that." Peter could see the light from behind his eyelids disappear with a resounding _ click. _

Tentatively, he forced himself to open his eyes, blinking several times to focus on the fuzzy silhouette in the dark beside him. 

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Tony smiled, and Peter furrowed his brow. Everything felt distant and on tilt. 

"What happened?" He asked, barely above a whisper. 

"You've been out for about a week," Tony replied, quiet and careful, "You were hurt pretty bad over in Hell's Kitchen. Do you remember anything?" Peter shook his head. Tony frowned, "We'll get that sorted eventually. How are you feeling?"

"Not good," The boy said, his voice raspy, "I--I don' know-- It 'urts all over." He whined. 

"Hey-- it's okay," Tony soothed, taking Peter's hand in his, "May's gonna come down and so are the doctors, we'll get you high on pain meds, okay?" 

"M'kay." Peter lolled his head to the side to look at Tony. He was slightly disheveled, tired and unkempt. He must have been worried sick. The boy knew he had to apologize. "M' sorry."

Tony gave him an abused look, "For what?"

"I know-- I know you said not to go to Hell's Kitchn', 'cause it's dangerous and DareDevil n' the other heroes work over there, but there was this really bad guy and--"

"Believe me, kid, you're gonna get the talking to of a lifetime as soon as you're outta this fancy sterile hotel, but why don't you slow down for a sec, okay? Just watching you is making me hurt." Technically not a lie, either. Peter looked miserable.

"S' May comin'?"

"Mhm," Tony hummed, "She'll be here soon, okay?"

"m'kay."

They sat in silence for a while, Tony running his fingers through Peter's hair until May opened the door with a smile, a nurse with a kind face following closely behind her.

"Hey baby," she said, sitting in a chair opposite of Tony, "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," He replied, taking a moment to bask in both May and Tony's presence. If the universe wouldn't allow him to keep his biological parents or his Uncle, well, he'd be just as happy with the next best thing.

"That's expected," The nurse chuckled from next to the bed, "You crashed pretty hard, Mr. Parker."

"He tends to do that. Self-destructive behavior is in his life contract, I believe," Tony remarked. 

"Stooop," Peter whined.

"We're going to have a very serious talk about this later, okay?" May said, "You scared us half to death." Peter cringed, thinking about the incoming doom that was the wrath of not only Tony, but May as well. Which was always far more terrifying.

"Yes, May." Is all he said.

The nurse adjusted something out of his line of sight, "This'll help with the pain, but I'm afraid it'll knock you right out."

"This kid needs all the sleep he can get," Tony said, "And maybe a shower when he wakes up." 

"Is' not _ my _fault."

"Doesn't need to be, but, bud, you're pretty ripe," The man smiles, "We'll get you cleaned up after the holes in your abdomen heal a little bit better, I promise."

"m'kay." Peter said sleepily, not even registering half of what Tony had said. He felt a kiss on his forehead-- maybe from May, he wasn't sure. And, sure he was safe and with his parents, he fell into the arms of blissful sleep.

_5._  


Peter coughed harshly into his hands, sputtering when it felt like he was choking. He was lying on his side, curled up as tight as possible under the throw blanket. His school bag was haphazardly thrown onto the seat beside him, homework forgotten.

Morgan, who had been intently focused on her coloring book, looked up and gasped, "Daddy! Petey's _ dying _ !" Her yelling made his head pound and he groaned. Peter knew she was exaggerating because that's what six-year-olds do, but he sure as hell _ felt _like he was dying. 

Peter heard footsteps from the stairs "Huh? Morgan, what's--" Tony spotted Peter on the couch, "Wow. Petey really _ is _dying."

The boy rolled his eyes, even though it gave him a throbbing pain in his head, "Let me sleep." He hacked a cough again, sniffing his nose and burying his face into the couch cushions. 

"You can sleep _ upstairs. _ Pep is having company in about an hour. Come on," Tony said, shaking the teen's shoulder and prompting him to stand up. He only moaned in reply.

"Come on, Spidey, I promise if you get up I'll make you some chicken noodle soup."

Peter sniffed, "With the oyster crackers?"

Tony cracked a lopsided smile, "Now what kind of a dad would I be if I didn't provide oyster crackers?" 

"A pretty bad one, I guess."

"Come on, up and you'll get all of the crackers you want." Reluctantly, Peter pushed himself into a sitting position, getting up on shaky feet before vertigo took over and he fell into Tony. 

"Yikes. Gonna add some super-soldier grade meds to that list too, huh?" 

"Can you crush the crackers up? And like, put them on the top of the soup?" Peter asked as they started their journey up the stairs.

"Of course, bud."

\-------

"Alright, one bowl of soup covered in soggy crackers, coming right up," Tony set the tray down next to the teen, who was scrolling through his phone as he shivered under his comforter. Tony held the back of his hand against Peter's forehead, "Yep. Definitely burning up. Let's get some food in you, yeah?"

Peter was sitting up just as Morgan came to the doorway.

"Hi Em," He cooed in a raspy voice, "What's up?"

The little girl was hiding behind a plethora of her favorite stuffies, which she promptly dumped at the bottom of Peter's bed and hauled herself up. "I brought you some toys! They make me feel better when my tummy hurts!" She brought them forward in presentation, namely her Spider-Man and Iron Man, and planted them all around Peter.

"That's really sweet of you, little miss," Tony smiled fondly and turned to Peter, "I'll tell May that you're not going to school for the next few days. In the meantime, it's all soup and poppin' pills." He dropped two capsules and a glass of water on his nightstand, "For _ after _you eat." 

"Thanks, Tony," Peter said, blowing his nose with the newly-provided box of tissues. Tony mussed up his hair fondly, "No problem, kiddo. Now, _ eat _ ." He pushed the bowl of soup into Peter's hands. He couldn't really taste anything, but it warmed his insides and made him feel less nauseous. Tony left to attend to company, but Morgan situated herself at the base of his bed and turned on the TV, hugging her teddy bear close as she watched _ Ponyo. _Peter had gotten her into the Studio Ghibli classics, and now she was hooked.

Once he finished the entire bowl, he downed the entire glass of water with the pills, and curled up, exhausted, and let himself be rocked to sleep by the song _ Mother of The Sea _playing softly from the movie.

_ +1 _

Peter can’t sleep. 

Okay- he _ could _. But he doesn’t want to. He stares blankly at the ceiling until the alarm on his phone goes off angrily in the morning. He forces himself out of bed more days than not so May doesn’t worry too much. He sluggishly goes through the motions of his day. He blatantly ignores the glittering of the Iron Spider suit encased in the capsule at the corner of his room. Looking at it makes his heart beat a little faster and he has to turn to turn away. 

Peter’s eyes burn but he refuses to close them. Every night his bones beg for the relief of sleep, his exhaustion lies within them but he adamantly ignores the need. His body screams at his brain to do something but there’s nothing left to fix the damage. 

Peter sees a therapist who gets more worried every time he comes in. He lies about using sleeping pills- they don’t work on him anyway. He’s thankful. 

Peter stops going out as Spider-Man. He can barely get out of bed and when he does, he’s irritated. His motivation plumbetted so fast even he can’t keep up. May sits with him, rubs his back and brushes his curls with her fingertips until he pretends to fall asleep. She runs the pads of her thumbs along his face to soothe his nerves like she did when he was a child. Once in awhile she’d softly walk them over into her room and they’d share a bed to try to help. Peter would let her hold him and then disentangle himself when she fell asleep. 

Peter smiles sadly when she frets over him. “May, really. I’m okay, I promise.” 

May’s lips make a straight line before she sighs and nods. She kisses his forehead and leaves for work. 

Peter’s not okay. He ignores Ned and MJ for awhile out of pure self-isolation. He doesn’t call Happy or Pepper and dodges every home-visit Tony makes to the apartment. Tears slide down his cheeks every time his mentor leaves, but he can’t bring himself to look at the man. 

After he snaps at May one too many times, he listens through the walls as she calls Tony. Peter rolls himself into his blanket and stares at the wall, eyes aching to close. 

While at Tony’s, it’s awkward. The little girl pattering at his feet is welcoming but he doesn’t have the energy to entertain her. He locks himself in his bedroom and hides under the plush comforter, watching the rain drip down the window. 

His eyes droop closed. His body is relaxed and warm from it, happy to lay his head on the pillow and wake up next year. Peter doesn’t think about why he doesn’t sleep, he just does. 

That is, until Peter wakes up screaming and sobbing and choking on himself. It’s not even a few minutes before the door flies open and Tony is sliding under the covers with him. The man is gentle, cooing praise and comfort. 

So, Peter makes an effort not to sleep. 

He goes through the motions of his day. _ School, Patrol, School, Patrol; _ a never ending cycle. Peter dabs some of May's concealer under his eyes before Happy picks him up for their weekends at the cabin. 

He throws his web shooters on the empty desk and pretends to tweak them. 

After awhile, and no one comes to join him, he lays his head on the desk and stares at the fumble of blueprints that go untouched.

"Hey, kid." 

Peter doesn't move. His eyes are glued to the wall, limbs heavy beneath him. Even when his mentor's hand squeezes his neck a little his body is locked down. 

Tony helps his move over to the couch and it's when Peter snaps. His resolve crumbles in Tony's arms. 

They make it to the couch when tears stream freely down Peter's cheeks. His hiccuping is making it hard for Tony to understand what's wrong, but he knows. 

Tony hugs Peter tight to him and cards his fingers through his mused hair. He lays a few kisses to Peter's scalp to calm him down. 

When Peter slumps against him but eyes still wide open, Tony runs his hand up and down his spine. 

"C'mon, Pete." His mentor says. "It's bedtime." 


End file.
